Desire
by laynee
Summary: Sequel to Hit. Dick is up against one of the worst drugs on the streets of Bludhaven. He's going to need his friends and family to keep him from giving in to the darkness that he wants so desperately. rated for possible language and certain withdrawal.
1. Time

Still don't own Nightwing or anything else DC does. Not suing would be appreciated.

Anyway, thanks for the reviews.

This is the sequel to Hit. Don't know how long it will be (didn't expect Hit to be so long), but here it is.

/\-n-/\

Dick spent much of his time asleep. He continued to recover, but it was slow. The goss had messed him up enough without calculating in the withdrawal. His heartbeat would still be a little uneven at times, but Leslie expected that to return to normal in time. He didn't have much of an appetite and he needed to recover the strength he lost from the days on the drug. He grew restless from the days spent in bed. He was never one to rest complacent in bed, especially a hospital bed.

There was a near constant buzz in his head from the medication to prevent the detox from the gossamer. He was weak and shaky, even sitting for a few hours or a short walk down the hall would wear him out and the tremor in his hands intensified. When he slept, he dreamed of the parts of his capture that he remembered.

After a week, Dick was about ready to escape on his own. Leslie had been giving him vague answers to his questions of when he could leave for a couple days.

Leslie came into his room as Dick was sitting on the edge of the bed. He had been trying to gather up the strength to make a break for it. He looked up and saw Bruce by the door.

Dick smiled. "When can I get out of here?"

"I'm going to release you." She paused. "Bruce and I have decided that it would be best if you were released into his care to recover."

His smile faded. "I'm twenty two, I don't need anyone to take care of me."

"Dick, once you leave this hospital, you will start to experience withdrawal. Gossamer is not a nice drug to come off of. You will need support and help if you are to get clean."

"Stop talking to me like I'm an junkie. I've seen it, I know. I'll be fine." He looked over at Bruce. "Just let me go home."

Bruce took a slow breath. "I know that you are strong enough to do this on your own, but it will be easier if you let us help you."

Dick knew they were right, he knew that the Goss would mess with him as it burned out of his system. "If it's too hard at home, then I give you permission to do what you think is necessary."

"Okay."

Leslie started to unhook the monitors and medication from Dick.

Bruce turned and saw Roy in the hall. "He's going home."

Roy looked in at his friend. "I'll stay with him."

"Call if you need anything." Bruce walked down the hall.

Leslie stepped out as Dick pulled on the jeans and shirt that Roy brought over for him. He came out into the hall where Roy was waiting.

"You ready?" Roy smiled.

Dick glanced down the hall. "More than ready." He paused. "Roy, I might need your help."

"I know."

As they walked down the hall, Leslie stopped Roy. She passed him a small paper bag that he tucked into his pocket. Dick didn't notice, he was still a little off balance and weak. They made it to the front where Roy left to get his car. Dick sat down on a bench.

Leslie stood next to him. "This next week is going to test you."

"I know."

"You're going to need help, as much as you don't want it now."

He nodded. "I'll be okay."

She turned to him. "I know you will."

Roy pulled up and Dick slowly stood. He climbed into the car and Roy pulled out of the parking lot. Dick leaned back in the seat with his eyes closed.

Roy glanced over. "How do you feel?"

"Tired." He paused. "How messed up was I when I came in?"

He focused too hard on the road. "You weren't breathing."

"I don't remember much." He tried to sound as apologetic as he felt.

"Yeah, well…" Roy looked over at Dick for a moment.

Roy pulled into the parking lot behind the apartment building. They climbed out of the car and up the few flights of stairs. Dick was slightly out of breath when they arrived at his door.

"Maybe I'm not as fit as I thought." He muttered as Roy opened the door.

Dick walked into the room and sunk into a chair. Roy gathered the mail that had accumulated on the floor and placed it on the kitchen table. He dropped into another chair.

"So, what now?" Roy paged through a book.

Dick closed his eyes. "I guess we just wait."

He winced as a flash of pain shot through his head, a warning of worse to come. He opened his eyes and sat forward. Roy watched him carefully. He knew that Dick had a long road ahead of him, a road that neither would wish upon their worst enemies, and there were a fair few that deserved it. Roy remembered all to well and all to vividly his days of detox and he wished for another way that was easier for Dick.

Dick stood and leaned against the arm of the chair as he gained his balance. "I think I'm going to sleep for a few hours. I'm pretty tired."

"You need me to get anything?"

He paused. "Maybe just basic groceries, milk, bread. Whatever you want since it seems like everyone's set on keeping an eye on me." He walked down the hall to his room.

"Barbara's coming over later." Roy said.

Dick stopped and turned. He rolled his eyes. "I don't need a babysitter."

Roy glanced away. "Listen, I know that right now you think you can handle it, but you can't. If I didn't have my friends at my side when I detoxed, I'd be just another junkie on the street." He paused. "This shit's stronger than you, that's how it was designed. You're going to do things and want things that you never dreamed of in your worst nightmares."

Dick leaned against the wall. "Way to keep the morale up." He smirked.

Roy held Dick's gaze.

Dick looked away. "Thanks, ahead of time, for what you're going to do for me. I'm really tired, so…"

Roy nodded. Dick turned and disappeared into his room. He dropped onto his bed and pulled the blankets up over his shoulders to combat the sudden chill he got. He closed his eyes and listened to his heartbeat in his ears as he drifted off.


	2. Pain

Still don't own Nightwing or anything else DC does. Not suing would be appreciated.

Anyway, thanks for the reviews.

This is the sequel to Hit. Don't know how long it will be (didn't expect Hit to be so long), but here it is.

/\-n-/\

Dick woke suddenly as pain shot through every inch of him. He buried his face in the pillow to keep his gasp of pain from being heard. After a few minutes of agony, the pain slowly faded to a dull ache. He rolled to his back and took slow breaths to calm his racing heart and swallow back the nausea. After the pounding in his ears subsided, the faint voices of Barbara and Roy drifted through the partially open door.

The room was dark around him and he was thankful because he was pretty certain that light would feel like a dagger in his brain.

He slowly sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He rested his elbows on his knees for a few moments as he adjusted to the change of position. He took a sharp breath as pain shot through his abdomen.

"…Dick?" Barbara stood in the doorway.

He looked up and smiled a little. "Hey."

She couldn't hide the concern in her eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm all right." He swallowed back the nausea that flared again.

She saw the color leave his face and walked over to him. She sat next to him on the bed and took his hand in her own. His fingers were cold and she could feel him shake a little.

"There's some soup on the stove if you want it."

He winced slightly. "Maybe later." He took his hand from her grasp and stood.

Barbara saw him waver and stood to steady him. "What do you need?"

Dick shook his head slightly. He suddenly held one hand to his stomach and swallowed. His breathing was a little quicker.

"Dick?"

He closed his eyes for a second before he quickly left the room.

Barbara found him in the bathroom, kneeling in front of the toilet as he heaved. He was very pale, sweat coated his forehead and dampened his hair. His knuckles were white as he gripped the sides of the bowl. She gently rested her hand on his shoulder.

"I'm okay." He whispered between gasps for breath.

She couldn't help but smile. "I know."

Barbara filled a cup with water and set it on the edge of the counter for Dick when he was ready. After a few minutes he eased himself back against the wall. He drew his knees up and closed his eyes.

"Dick." Barbara held the glass of water for him.

He took a few slow sips and waited to make sure that it would stay down. His stomach was tight with pain that slowly spread through his torso and into his limbs. His head throbbed with the same beat of his heart, like someone steadily swinging a baseball bat into his skull. She took the water glass from his shaking hands.

"Do you want to go back to bed?"

He opened his eyes and looked at her. "I don't know." He paused. The pain and nausea subsided a little. "Maybe I could try that soup."

She gave him a hand to help him up. He stood and leaned against the wall until the room stopped spinning around him. Slowly they walked out into the kitchen. Dick slumped into a chair.

Roy came in from the living room. "Hey, how'd you sleep?"

"Fine, until I woke up." He winced as his stomach cramped again.

Barbara brought over a small bowl of soup and set it in front of Dick. He looked at it for a few seconds before he took a tentative bite. As soon as it was in his mouth, he knew it was a mistake, but he forced himself to swallow. Roy and Barbara saw his face pale. He set the spoon on the side of the bowl and pushed it back a little.

She took the bowl from the table and placed it on the counter.

Roy set down a mug of room temperature tea and a couple crackers. "Try that instead."

Dick took a small sip of tea. "Peppermint?"

Barbara sat down across from him. "And Ginger, it calms the stomach."

He rested his pounding head in his palm and closed his eyes.

"You have to drink something." Barbara said. "And eat a little, if you can."

"I know." He sighed.

He opened his eyes and forced himself to eat a cracker. He managed a few more drinks of the tea before he knew he never should have tried. He quickly stood from the table, wavered slightly and darted from the room.

Barbara and Roy gave him a few minutes even though they both wanted to follow him and make sure he was all right. Dick was suffering through dry heaves when Roy and Barbara appeared in the doorway. He glanced over at them and moved back against the wall.

She filled him a glass of water and set it at his side. He folded his arms across his knees and rested his head. He drew himself into as small of a space as possible. Roy sat on the edge of the bathtub.

"Go back to bed." Barbara ran her fingers through his hair.

"I'm fine." He muttered without lifting his head.

"Yeah." Roy sarcastically stated. "Clearly."

Dick looked up slightly. "Maybe I will just get some more sleep."

"Drink some first." Barbara picked up the glass and handed it to him.

Slowly he drank half the water in the glass and set it on the bathroom floor. Roy stood and held out a hand for Dick. He gripped Roy's hand and was pulled to his feet. He wavered a little and would have fallen if Roy hadn't grabbed Dick's arm.

Roy helped him down the hall and back to his room. Dick sat heavily on the edge of the bed. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.

"You need anything?"

Dick shook his head slightly. He tensed as pain radiated through his entire body again. He leaned forward. Roy grabbed Dick's shoulder and kept him from falling to the floor. Dick's breath was short and quick as he tried to breathe through the pain. His eyes were shut tight and he couldn't think of anything but the blinding pain.

"…you're okay. Just focus on breathing." Roy's voice was calm and even. "You'll get through this."

After a few minutes that seemed like hours, the pain finally subsided enough that he could open his eyes. He was shaking and didn't know if he wanted to pass out or vomit first.

"Are you all right?" Roy met Dick's eyes.

"I guess." He muttered. He looked up. "I'm in over my head, aren't I?"

Roy tried to smile. "No. You're going to be fine." He hoped Dick believed him.

Dick was too tired to sift through the lies that Roy told him. He took a slow breath and curled under the blankets. Roy stayed for a few moments to make sure that Dick was all right before he left.

All Dick wanted was to sleep, but the pain and nausea kept him from it. He curled with his knees drawn in and the blankets pulled up over his head. The pain flared and faded almost as rhythmically as the pounding pain in his head.


	3. Sinking

Still don't own Nightwing or anything else DC does. Not suing would be appreciated.

Anyway, thanks for the reviews.

This is the sequel to Hit. Don't know how long it will be (didn't expect Hit to be so long), but here it is.

/\-n-/\

Dick shivered and pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders. He couldn't ever remember being that cold. It was like the cold was coming from inside him instead of outside. As much as he tried to deny it, he knew that another hit of goss would make him feel normal. The pain sharpened in his head, like an ice pick through his temple, and sweat broke out across his forehead. He wanted something, anything to make it all stop.

Roy and Barbara had a movie on with the volume low.

Barbara's cell rang and she grabbed it off the table. "Hello?"

"How's he doing?" Bruce's voice came through the phone.

"All right. He's been sleeping, or trying to, mostly."

"Call if you need anything."

"I will." She glanced over at Roy. "I'll tell him you called."

"Okay. Keep me posted."

"Sure." Barbara closed the phone after Bruce hung up.

Roy looked over at her. "Bruce?"

She nodded and smiled a little. She stood. "I'm going to go check on him."

Barbara walked to his room. She pushed open the partially closed door and let a little of the hall light fill the room. The bed was empty, just a tangle of sheets and pillows.

"Dick?" She glanced around to make sure that the room was empty.

She stepped back into the hall as Roy came in from the living room. "Is everything all right?"

Barbara turned to the closed bathroom door and gently knocked. "Dick, are you okay?" She tried to open the door, but it was locked.

Roy pulled a paper clip from his pocket and quickly picked the lock. He pushed the door open. Dick was sitting against the bathtub with a blanket pulled around his shoulders. He was shirtless and his hair hung in wet pieces across his forehead. Sweat glistened on his pale skin and he seemed frail. He looked up and helplessness and pain spilled from his blue eyes.

Roy and Barbara went to him and knelt at his side. Dick grabbed Roy's hand.

"Hey," Roy smiled slightly. "You're all right."

"It's so hard." He whispered. "Hurts."

Barbara held her hand to his forehead. "You're a little warm."

"Could you get me some water?"

She nodded and filled a glass. She handed it to him and kept her hands over his until his shaking lessened. He took a long, slow drink and handed the glass back. He slid down the wall a little. He stiffened in pain and held his breath.

Barbara placed her hand on his bare chest. "Dick, I want you to breathe with me. In, slowly." She waited for him to draw breath. "Good, and out, just as slow."

She kept telling him when to breathe for a few minutes before he opened his eyes. She brushed his damp hair back and handed him the water again. He took another slow drink and leaned his head back against the wall.

"Do you want to go back to bed?" Roy asked after the silence.

Dick shook his head slightly. "Don't feel the greatest." He suddenly sat forward and dove for the toilet.

Roy stood and left the room. He returned a few minutes later. Dick was still vomiting and Barbara was gently rubbing his back.

Roy attached a needle to a syringe and drew from a vial. He knelt next to Dick and wiped his arm with an alcohol pad.

"Leslie said to give you a shot of this if you were too sick to keep anything down. You don't need to get dehydrated on top of everything else." Roy checked the dosage and the syringe again. "This might sting a little."

Roy took Dick's shaking arm in his hand and carefully injected the medication. Dick spit and half passed out as he tried to move back against the wall. Barbara filled the water glass again as Roy cleaned out the syringe and dropped the needle into the garbage. Roy and Barbara caught each other's eyes for a moment.

"Come on, we'll get you back to bed." Barbara passed the water glass to Dick.

He took a slow drink and let the water flow over his parched throat. "I'm okay here."

"Let us help you."

"I already have." He met Roy's eyes.

Barbara took Dick's hand in her own. "You don't have to do this with a smile and your usual independence."

He sighed and closed his eyes. "I know." Another spasm of pain tore through his already exhausted body.

With his eyes closed he reached his hand out. Roy gripped it and felt Dick's fingers tighten around his own.

"Can't give me anything for the pain, can you?" He gasped.

"No, sorry."

"Didn't think so." He sighed and his hand fell limp from Roy's.

"I'm going to help you back to bed." Roy said after a few minutes.

Dick didn't argue. Roy and Barbara pulled him to his feet and guided him back to his room. He collapsed onto the bed and pulled the blankets tight around his shoulders.

"What if I can't do this?" He muttered.

Roy shrugged. "You'll be fine."

He shivered and winced as pain shot through his abdomen again. It was like an electric shock through his stomach, and that only sharpened the feeling of knives in his head. He wasn't sure if the shaking was from the chills or from his fatigue and withdrawal. His breath was in short gasps and he wanted nothing more than to pass out.

He didn't notice that Barbara had stepped out until she returned to the doorway. "Dick?"

Somehow he managed to look up.

"Bruce is here to see you." And then his silhouette appeared behind her.

Roy took a few steps back as Bruce came into the room. He sat in the desk chair that was near the bed. Neither spoke, Dick because he was too focused on simply breathing and Bruce because he knew there were no words that would help. Neither minded the silence, it had become normal.

"Sorry." Dick muttered after a few moments.

"For what?"

"Effing everything up." He gasped as the pain sharpened.

Bruce allowed a ghost of a half smile to appear for a moment. "You didn't."

Dick met Bruce's cool gaze and knew that he would be able to see the pain that spilled from the young man's eyes. Bruce saw everything Dick didn't want him to.

**Ten years previous.**

Bruce sat in the shadow of an air conditioning unit on one of the many rooftops of Gotham. Dick sat behind him, lean and growing fast at twelve. A faint mist had been falling all day, making the night patrol slightly more uncomfortable and dangerous.

"Let's make one more round and then head back." Bruce kept his voice low, but Dick caught every word.

They walked to the edge of the roof and shot their grappling hooks across the ally to swing down. They both checked the security of the line, like always, and both lines held strong.

Bruce swung down and knew Dick was right behind him. A split second after Dick swung out, he felt his line slip. His heartbeat quickened a little with fear. In terrible, unchangeable slow motion, he watched his line snap free from the building. Bruce glanced back and tried to reach the boy, but he was just beyond Bruce's grasp.

Dick fell to the ally below with a sickening thud. Bruce was at the boy's side in a second. Dick was curled near a dumpster, his wet hair scattered across his forehead and a thin trail of blood ran from somewhere under his hairline.

"Dick." Bruce checked the boy for any broken bones.

Other than his shoulder seeming dislocated and his current state of unconsciousness, he seemed all right. Bruce turned Dick onto his back and checked to see where the blood was coming from now that it ran a little faster.

Dick's eyes blinked open for a moment before he quickly closed them as his brain registered the pain he was in. A small groan escaped his lips before he could choke it back. The wind was knocked out of him and he gasped.

"Are you all right?" The concern in Bruce's voice was almost disguised.

"Don't know." He gasped and winced as he tried to shift.

"You most likely have a concussion and I want to get a better look at your shoulder. Does anything else hurt?"

Dick shook his head and then stopped as it made him dizzy and nauseous.

"Just focus on breathing. You're okay."

He opened his eyes and met Bruce's eyes. Bruce could see the pain in the boy's eyes and knew he was helpless.

**Present day.**

That same look held Bruce's eyes again, and he was just as powerless. A spasm of pain tore through Dick's body and he instinctively curled inward. He reached out and grabbed Bruce's wrist with surprising strength.

"Help me." He words were almost lost in breath.

Bruce grabbed Dick's hand. "Focus on taking a slow breath, think only of that."

Dick managed a few controlled breaths before he got his wish and was dragged into unconsciousness. His grip on Bruce's hand loosened, but Bruce didn't let go.


	4. Drowning

Still don't own Nightwing or anything else DC does. Not suing would be appreciated.

Anyway, thanks for the reviews.

This is the sequel to Hit. Don't know how long it will be (didn't expect Hit to be so long), but here it is.

/\-n-/\

Bruce stayed as long as he could, until the time was interrupted by a situation in Gotham that needed to be taken care of as only he could. He stood and quietly closed the door on his way out of Dick's room. Barbara and Roy looked up as he came into the living room.

"Keep an eye on him." Bruce said with a slight glance back towards the bedroom.

"Sure." Roy smiled.

"I'll check in later." He left the apartment.

"Personal visits from Batman." Roy said with a smirk.

"It's his dad. He wasn't Batman or Bruce Wayne." Barbara corrected without looking up from her book.

For Dick the time passed unknown to him. Between the hours he managed to sleep and the time he spent trying to loosen the grip of gossamer, nearly two days had passed since he arrived home. It didn't matter. Each passing minute made everything harder.

He woke alone in his room. He shivered as he sat up and pulled on a sweatshirt from the floor. He glanced over at the night that pressed in at his window. For the first time in weeks, his thoughts were clear and focused.

He stood and walked to the window. With more effort than it should have taken, he managed to open it. The cool, night air cooled his sweat soaked skin and hair and increased his shivering. He pulled himself out onto the fire escape and looked down into the ally below. Everything spun and he closed his eyes. He gripped the railing to keep from falling.

Roy gently knocked on Dick's bedroom door. He pushed open the door and found the bed empty and the window open.

"Shit." Roy ran to the window and out onto the fire escape.

Dick was huddled one flight down. Roy could see him shake from ten feet away. He climbed down to his friend. Dick's face was pale and his eyes were closed.

"Where were you going?" Roy casually asked.

Dick looked over. "I was heading for the docks, but this was as far as I could get."

Roy knew why Dick was heading for the docks, but he asked anyway. "For what?"

He looked away, his voice low. "I – I just wanted, a little, you know? Just a little, taper off gradually. I can't do it this way."

"Let's go back in."

"I don't think I can stand." He met Roy's eyes. "I'll just pass out again."

Barbara appeared in the window above them. "Roy?"

"He's all right." Roy answered. "Come on, she's worried about you."

Roy hauled Dick to his feet and helped him up the stairs. He was shaking too hard to support his weight and he felt like he had been spinning for the past hour. After a few minutes, Roy helped him back into the room. Dick sunk to his knees and rested his forehead on the floor.

"Please, just a little." He whispered. "I promise, that's all I need. Something to take the edge off."

Roy and Barbara sat on the floor with him. Barbara touched his shoulder and he flinched. "I'm sorry."

He turned to her, the same desperation in his eyes as the junkies on the streets. "Please. I'll do anything."

Barbara squeezed his shoulder a little and stood to get him a glass of water. Dick crawled over to his dresser and pulled open the top drawer. He dug for something near the back. Roy saw the quick flash of a prescription pill bottle and dove for his friend. Roy easily wrestled it away from his friend.

He turned the lable to see what it was. "You still have vicodin left?"

"From when I was shot." He said between gasps.

"I know where it was from." Roy shoved it in his pocket. "That would only screw you up further."

"Please, I need it."

"I can't."

Dick tried to pull the bottle from Roy's pocket. With a few quick and well trained moves, Roy had Dick pinned against the floor. Dick struggled, but didn't have nearly enough strength to make it a fair fight.

He still struggled when Barbara returned. Blood ran from his nose, his blood thinner from the goss. His fight and panic was fueled by withdrawal paranoia and addiction. Barbara knelt next to his head.

"Dick, listen to me. You're only going to hurt yourself if you keep struggling."

"I need it." He cried.

"You're better than this." She took his hand.

He shook his head. "Just something to take the edge off."

Roy shifted slightly. "I've known you for years and this isn't you."

Dick kept fighting. He didn't care that blood poured from his face, didn't care that he wanted to throw away all his training and work, didn't care that another hit of goss could kill him. Nothing that Roy or Barbara said mattered.

"Let me up." He struggled again. "Roy, get the fuck off me."

"Barbara, in my jeans pocket, get the pill bottle out and get rid of it."

She reached into Roy's pocket and pulled out the pills. She stood and flushed them. Dick started to fight harder, using energy he didn't have to burn. He almost got free before Roy tightened his grip again.

Barbara came back in. "Please, Dick."

"I should have known." He choked on the blood in his mouth. "Both of you against me."

He had been fighting as hard as he could for the past fifteen minutes. His heart wasn't strong enough to handle it, he wasn't strong enough.

Barbara ran her fingers through his hair. "Robin, please, Robin."

He stopped struggling as he realized what she called him. His breath was fast.

She smiled. "I knew you were in there somewhere." She looked up at Roy. "He's okay."

Roy slowly got up. Dick curled as he realized the pain he was in. His heart was beating so fast that it hurt and he couldn't catch his breath. Roy grabbed a towel from the closet and carefully wiped up the blood.

"Things…crawling on…me." He panted.

Barbara kept brushing his hair back. "Shhh, you're okay."

"Called me…Robin."

"Yeah." She smiled a little at Roy.

Roy held his hand to his ear like a phone. He mouthed 'I'll call Bruce'. Barbara nodded and he left the room. She sat with Dick and helped him calm down, kept him grounded. He coughed on the blood and Barbara wiped it away from his face. She kept one hand on his chest to make sure that his heart slowed to a more normal pace. Roy came back in and sat on the floor.

Dick looked over at him. "Sorry." He whispered.

"It wasn't you." Roy shrugged. "You want to get back to bed?"

Dick nodded and tried to sit up. He had used too much energy fighting and ended up falling back onto the floor as he arms gave out. Roy pulled him up and helped him back to bed. Dick was nearly unresponsive as the pain and need consumed him.

The knock at the front door almost drew him from his pain stupor, but as soon as Roy left to answer it, he returned to it all. Barbara sat on the edge of the bed with him and gently rubbed his back. He took short, suddering breaths through his teeth.

"You're going to be all right." She kept repeating soft words to try and save what was left of his broken body. "You're stronger than this, I know you are, Robin."

Roy and Bruce came into the room. Bruce had quickly dressed in a sweatshirt and jeans. As soon as he saw the pallor of Dick's face, the tremors that shook his body and the tightness in his jaw from the pain, Bruce knew that his son was barely hanging on. He didn't need Roy to tell him what had happened, he knew.

Bruce came close and sat in the chair at the bedside. He took Dick's hand. "Hey."

Dick slowly opened his eyes. "Called in…reinforcements?"

"Something like that."

"I can't do this." He sighed. "Too hard."

"After all that you've overcome, you're going to go down like this?"

Dick shrugged slightly. "No choice." He winced as the pain ratcheted up a few more levels.

Bruce analyzed every word, every movement and didn't like what it all added up to. Gossamer was doing what it was designed to do, take no prisoners. In his current weakened state, he was drowning in gossamer's wake.

All Bruce could do was take Dick's hand.

**Ten years previous.**

Slowly, Bruce eased Dick up from the damp ally. The boy wavered on his feet a moment before he was steadied. He held his right arm close to his chest.

Bruce carefully gripped the boy's shoulders. "You okay?"

Dick nodded, his face pale from pain.

"Let's go home. I'm sure Alfred will fix you up in no time."

The ride home was silent. Dick was trying hard to stay conscious and keep the pain in control. His head swam and pounded and he couldn't move his arm. Bruce kept sneaking sideways glances over at the boy, concerned more for the head wound.

Alfred was waiting when they entered the cave. At that point, Dick was too worn down by pain and too focused to stay conscious to care.

"Why don't you have a seat, master Richard."

Dick sat down on the straight-backed chair with a sigh. Alfred checked Dick over and looked up as Bruce came over.

"Master Richard, I am going to have to reposition your arm. I'm afraid that it will hurt quite a bit."

Dick looked over at Bruce for a second as the fear of more pain caused him to tense.

Bruce came over and took Dick's hand. "You can do this, I'm not going anywhere."

**Present day.**

Dick looked over at Bruce and tightened his grip. "Don't leave." He whispered.

Bruce saw the fear in Dick's eyes. "I'm not going anywhere."

Another, stronger wave of pain added to the already high levels and Dick's instinctively tightened his grip. Black rimmed his vision and he prayed to whoever was listening to just let him pass out. Bruce didn't let go, didn't even move, it never even crossed his mind.


	5. Fighting

Still don't own Nightwing or anything else DC does. Not suing would be appreciated.

Anyway, thanks for the reviews.

This is the sequel to Hit. Don't know how long it will be (didn't expect Hit to be so long), but here it is.

/\-n-/\

He didn't pass out. He was conscious for every agonizing minute as the pain ripped through his body. He didn't say a word, but Bruce knew he was suffering. Dick was a pale, shaking version of who he was two weeks previous.

"Please." He whispered, desperate. "Just a little bit of goss."

If Bruce Wayne was just Bruce Wayne and not Batman, those words would have shattered his heart. To see someone who deticated their life to protecting innocent people from gossamer, to see someone who would fight to the end, to suddenly see them surrender was like watching Atlantis sink under the sea. Those few, desperate words hit Bruce where he was most vulnerable, helpless to save the people he cared about.

He met Dick's eyes. "You are strong enough for this. I promise."

"I can't do it." He gasped. "Something for the pain."

Bruce glanced back at Roy and Barbara in the doorway. Roy mouthed 'Leslie?' and Bruce nodded before he turned his attention back to his son.

**Ten years previous.**

Dick held Bruce's hand while Alfred prepared to put the boy's shoulder back in.

"Master Bruce." Alfred quietly said behind Dick's back. "This would go easier if he had something for the pain."

"I can't give him anything because of the concussion." Bruce hated that he couldn't do anything more.

Alfred nodded and turned back to the boy. "I called Leslie to come over at take a look at you."

Dick nodded slightly. "Okay."

He placed his hands on Dick's arm and shoulder. "On the count of three, Master Richard."

Bruce didn't let go of Dick's hand and placed his other hand on the boy's chest to hold him.

"Wait." Dick turned to Bruce. "How much will this hurt?" He tried to keep the quiver out of his voice.

"More than it does, for a moment." Bruce met the boy's eyes and saw the tears that he held back. "You're strong enough to do this. I know you are."

Alfred took a slow breath. "One, two, three."

He moved Dick's arm back in place. Bruce felt the boy try to pull away out of instinct and held him. A small cry of pain broke through Dick's attempts to be as brave as Bruce and one tear fell down his cheek. His breaths were quick and shallow and he shook from the pain. Then it was over. Dick sat exhausted in the chair.

Bruce cupped the boy's chin. "Are you okay?"

Dick nodded slightly, but his eyes betrayed his pain.

"Let's go upstairs. Would you like me to help you?"

"No." He whispered and slowly stood.

**Present day.**

Barbara let Leslie in and directed her to the bedroom. Bruce turned to her and smiled a little out of relief. Dick hadn't noticed, he was too focused on the pain and the need. She rested a hand on Bruce's shoulder.

"Dick." Bruce cupped his son's chin. "Leslie's going to give you something to help."

Leslie smiled a little when Dick's eyes found her in the room. "Just so you can get some rest."

He nodded, anxious for a drug, any drug to flow through his system again. Leslie took a syringe and a vial from her bag. She carefully drew up ten milliliters of saline. She handed Bruce an alcohol wipe and he cleaned a spot on Dick's arm.

"This might sting a little." She sat on the edge of the bed. He watched as she injected the salt water into his arm. "This should take care of the pain and help you sleep."

Dick nodded. Bruce took his hand again as another wave of pain hit.

"When will…it work?" He gasped.

"A few minutes." Bruce glanced over at Leslie.

She checked Dick's vitals to make sure that he didn't have to be readmitted to the hospital. He was stable enough to remain at home. She held a glass of water for him and helped him drink half. He sunk into the pillows and waited for the pain to go away.

She stood and touched Bruce's shoulder as she left the room.

Dick shifted. "I'm sorry." He muttered.

"For what?"

His eyes slipped closed. "For not being strong enough."

"You are, but sometimes everyone needs a little help."

He was falling asleep. "I'll do better next time."

"You're doing just fine." Bruce said, even though he knew Dick had already fallen asleep.

Dick slept for the first time in nearly twenty-four hours. Bruce, Roy and Barbara all relaxed some. The pain he was in was still evident on his face, but he was asleep and unaware of it.

Roy walked over next to Bruce. "You look like you could get some sleep yourself."

He glanced over at Roy. "I'm all right."

"The couch isn't too bad." He paused. "I'll stay with him."

Bruce looked over at Roy before he nodded. "I guess I haven't slept much in the past few days." He stood and stretched out a knot in his shoulders.

Roy took his place in the chair as Bruce left the room. Dick shifted in his sleep. Barbara carefully sat on the edge of the bed and brushed his hair back until he calmed again.

"Was it this bad when you detoxed?" She whispered, her eyes on Dick.

"I don't remember much, but overall, yeah." Roy hated those memories he had. "It's like nothing I've ever felt before and there aren't words to prepare someone."

Barbara looked over at him. "I'm glad you're here for him."

He shrugged. "Where else would I be?"

Dick shivered even though the blanket was pulled up tight around him. Barbara gently stretched out beside him and put her arm around his shoulders. He snuggled closer to her and she held him a little tighter. His shaking stilled some and he relaxed further in sleep.

Barbara drifted off not long after, her arm still around Dick. Roy stayed awake to keep the bedside vigil. Every hour that passed was one hour that Dick had gotten through.

He woke about an hour after he had finally drifted off. Roy had hoped that Dick would be able to get a longer respite from the fight.

Roy leaned forward. "How are you doing?"

Dick shrugged and pulled the blanket tighter. "It's cold."

Barbara woke and sat up. She pulled up another blanket over him. "You should try and eat something."

"Don't think I can." He muttered.

She climbed off the bed. "You should try anyway." She left the room.

Roy handed Dick a glass of water and he took a few slow drinks. The pain had returned, but the need for a hit was a little less. He was worn out, exhausted from the struggled and didn't know how much more he could take.

"Listen." Roy met his eyes. "I know where you're at. It doesn't seem like it, but you're close to beating this. Some of the hardest shit is over."

"Only some?" He managed a pained smile.

"Yeah. How's the pain?"

"Still there." He sighed and shifted under the blankets. "Bruce?"

Roy smiled a little. "Should be asleep on the couch. Want me to get him?"

Dick shook his head. Barbara came into the room with a mug of chicken broth. The smell didn't induce nausea and Dick decided that he might, almost be hungry. He sat up a little on the pillows.

He managed a few tentative bites before he handed the bowl back. Pain surged again and he drew back within himself. He was so tired of fighting.

"I can't do this." He whispered.

Roy leaned forward. "Yeah, you can."

Barbara sat next to him and ran her fingers through his hair. "Just a little longer."

His eyes were closed, Roy and Barbara thought he had drifted back to sleep. "What did Leslie give me?"

Roy glanced over at Barbara. "When?"

"When I needed something." He kept his eyes closed.

"I don't know. Why?"

He sighed. "Just wondering." His breathing evened out as he fell back asleep.


	6. Shaking and Epilogue

Still don't own Nightwing or anything DC related. Not suing would be appreciated.

Anyway, thanks for the reviews. Sorry for the delay for the last chapter, enjoy. Thank you for all the reviews and help.

/\-n-/\

Dick shivered like he had spent the night in the north Atlantic, but at least he was asleep. Roy and Barbara took turns at his side for a few hours. Bruce returned to the room just as the sun broke over the horizon.

"How is he?" Bruce leaned against the doorframe.

Roy turned. "All right, I guess."

"I have to go, but I'll stop by later."

"We'll still be here. Good luck." Roy smiled.

"Thanks." Bruce left.

Barbara came into the room a half hour later with two cups of coffee. She handed one to Roy and sat down in a chair. He took a few slow drinks and leaned back. Dick shifted and pulled the blankets tighter around his shoulders.

"Is he okay?" Barbara asked.

"Yeah, but I'll tell Leslie to stop by later, just to make sure." He looked over at her. "What's up?"

She shrugged. "Dad said he could use some help down at the station, but…"

"Go. He'll be okay." Roy smiled. "Besides, he'd probably feel more guilty if he knew you were sitting by his side as crime ran rampant in the streets. That is, when he's done feeling shitty."

"I should only be gone an hour or two." She looked over at Dick. "He'll understand?"

Roy took her hand. "He's fine. I'll call if he can't live without you."

She smiled for the first time in days. "Thanks."

She leaned over and kissed Dick's forehead. Barbara glanced back at him once before she left.

Roy was sitting in an armchair with a book half finished when Dick woke. He sat up slowly and wrapped the tangled blankets around his shoulder. For the moment he only focused on sitting.

"It lives."

Dick turned to Roy and managed a small smile. "It's just an illusion." His voice was rough.

"What do you need?" Roy stood.

He shivered. "I'm going to grab a shower and then – what time is it?"

"Just after two in the afternoon."

He nodded. "Maybe a late lunch then." He looked up. "Where's Barbara?

"Had to go help Gordon with a case. I'll go heat up some soup." Roy left the room.

He gathered the strength and will to stand. He reluctantly shed the blankets and stood. The floor shifted slightly under his feet and his shivering increased. He was weaker than he realized and was starting to fill in the blanks as to how long he was out.

Dick went into the bathroom and caught sight of himself in the mirror. His hair was more than tousled and his face was pale beneath the start of a thick beard. Dark circles underlined his weary blue eyes and saw the glimmer of desperation that he was ashamed of. He could tell that he had dropped some weight and his hands trembled as he braced himself against the counter. A few small waves of nausea washed over him, but they weren't enough to give much thought to and he hadn't eaten in nearly a day.

Slowly he stripped and stepped under the hot water. It did little to warm him and he continued to shiver even though there was very little cold water used. He felt hollow and empty, like a space inside him and been carved out. He wanted to spend hours under the water, but knew he wasn't strong enough to keep standing for much longer. He turned off the shower and wrapped a thick towel around his waist.

The familiar routine of shaving, teeth brushing and the quick run of his fingers through his hair brought back a little normalcy into the recent chaos of his life. Dick pulled on sweatpants, a tee shirt, a long sleeved shirt and a sweatshirt. He couldn't shake the cold that seeped from his core.

He appeared at the kitchen table looking simply worn out rather than strung out. Roy placed a small bowl of soup and a piece of unbuttered toast in front of his friend. Dick ate slowly and found that it was the first meal in a long time that he actually wanted to eat.

Roy sat across from him with a sandwich. "How are you?"

"Better." He shrugged. "Freezing, though."

"Nauseous?"

"A little."

"I'm no doctor, but I'd say you're out of the worst of it." Roy smiled a little.

He couldn't finish the soup and he started to think that laying down would be a good idea again. "Thanks, Roy." His voice betrayed the humiliation and shame that he tried to hide.

"We all need help sometimes. God knows I have." Roy picked up the dishes and placed a glass of water in front of Dick. "Finish that and get some more sleep."

"It's not a bad idea." He took a small drink and wanted something to settle his stomach.

Leslie knocked on the door and Roy let her in. She smiled when she saw Dick and sat down next to him. Roy handed her a cup of coffee.

She looked over at Dick. "You seem better."

"Getting there." He pulled his hands into his sleeves as a chill wracked his frame.

"Are you feeling cold?"

"Freezing." He started to shiver again.

She took a few things form her medical bag and gave him a quick look to make sure he was all right. "Medically, you're all right. Just make sure you're drinking and resting plenty."

He nodded.

"Are you still feeling nauseous?"

He nodded again. "More now than when I first got up."

"Call me if the vomiting starts again. The chills should subside in a day or so." She stood. "I have an appointment, but give me a call if you need anything. All right?"

"Sure, thanks."

She rested her hand on his shoulder. "Anything for you."

After she left, he shakily stood and went back to bed. The longer he was up, the more the room spun around him. He pulled the blankets tight around his shoulders. He looked over at Roy standing in the doorway.

"You all right?"

"Just going to get some sleep."

Roy looked down as though contemplating asking the question or not. "Sill desperate for a hit?"

He shrugged. "A little, I guess, it's not too bad." He closed his eyes. "Will I ever feel normal again?"

"You will. You've been through the worst, Dick, but you made it."

Barbara appeared behind Roy and smiled. "You shaved."

He opened his eyes. "And showed, and ate something. How's the city?"

"Bruce has it covered now." She went over and sat next to him on the bed.

"Stay with me for a little bit?"

She brushed his hair back. "Of course."

He moved his hand out from under the blankets and gripped her fingers. He drifted back to sleep.

EPILOGUE

As the days passed, Dick continued to grow stronger and better. Barbara and Roy still stayed with him, but more as friends rather than caregivers or babysitters. Bruce stopped by less and less, but Dick knew it was because Bruce worried less about him.

Three weeks after he came home from the hospital he was back at work. He voluntarily checked himself into a narcotics anonymous group, just for a little bit to keep the demons and cravings under control. Sometimes he still caught himself thinking about how good a hit of goss would feel, but he didn't want to go down that road ever again.

Two days after he was back at the station, he started his patrols at night again. The blue and black costume did more for his recovery than nearly anything else. He fought hard to get a control on the drugs that flowed through the streets, he saw himself in junkies and it strengthened his resolve to fight against the darkness that nearly took him.

He had missed Alex's funeral, but he stopped by the headstone one day after his shift.

"I'm sorry, I'll make it right." Was all Dick said before he turned back to the city he swore (in more ways than one) to protect.


End file.
